Deadmen Tell No Tales
by Eyeliner-Vampire
Summary: Just when Noll thought it was over, he finds himself face-to-face with the one person he thought he'd never find. The worst part is, she thinks he's the ghost of the boy she killed, out for revenge. She's hell bent on taking her mistake with her to the grave, but will he be able to escape or is he about to learn what it means to be dead? Alternative Ending.
1. Denial

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Do not go gentle into that good night,  
-Dylan Thomas

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 **CHAPTER 1:** Denial

Part I

Oliver Davis.

It was weird how his own name sounded so foreign to his ears; how the more time he spent as Kazuya Shibuya, the more he forgot what it had been like before. There was a part of him that took comfort in this new identity. This new life.

He hated that part.

"Oliver Davis-hakase." Takigawa-san said again, as if Noll's thoughts had an echo.

There was a pause in which six pairs of eyes focused on Noll, all in various states of incredulity. Noll looked away from them all, glaring down at the only person in the room who wasn't watching him as if he'd grown another head. Hara-san's slate grey eyes were turned resolutely to the floor at his feet; the only one of the Irregular's who had known who he was. Why he was here.

"Naru…" Mai fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. He couldn't help meeting her wide, brown eyes. "Is that true?"

Anger shook his fists. If he hadn't already hidden them in a tight fashion across his chest, they would have ruined his carefully constructed mask. He took a breath. Somehow, they had effortlessly unraveled all his secrets right under his nose. So effortlessly, in fact, that if he hadn't already been so furious at his own carelessness, the stormy teen might have been impressed.

"Well?"

"I don't feel the need to answer you," he said, hoping no one else noticed the slight tremble in his voice. Disgusted with his own foolhardiness, he turned toward the door. "Are the 15 minutes over?"

His words must have shocked them into stillness because no one moved to stop him. He escaped into the stuffy heat of the summer day, ignoring the worrying rattle of the cabin door as it slammed shut behind him. Finally free from prying eyes, he let his guard slip. His fingernails were beginning to bite into his palms. He forced him open.

Who were they to corner him into such a position? he asked himself. Who did they think they were to take all his secrets and throw them back in his face?

Friends, his mind supplied. Noll rolled his eyes skyward, pushing the thought away with a growl.

He strode further from the cabin, hands curling to fists in barely contained anger, not caring that his Chinese chaperone was not right behind him. In fact, he didn't think he could stomach it if it did. These past two years, Lin had barely allowed him a mere second to himself — it was almost a relief to be alone.

No Lin hovering over his shoulder; a constant reminder of how fragile he was. How useless. With a sudden pang, Noll set off at a brisk pace. He just needed to put as much distance as he could between them as he could. He needed space to think.

He found himself back at the door of his cabin in a few short minutes. He fumbled in his pocket for the key.

The campground was obviously outdated; the floorboards creaked, the paint was bleached from years under the blazing sun, and the locks stuck. Fighting with the old lock, it took two tries before the key slid in and another three before it would turn. Just when he was starting to consider kicking the damn thing open as a completely viable option, the lock clicked and the door gave way.

The cool air of the cabin's surprisingly functional A/C greeted him. It blew back his bangs and chilled the sweat gathering on his nape.

Pocketing the key again, he ignored the small western couch pushed flush against the back wall, and collapsed onto the tatami with a grunt. The second he hit the floor, exhaustion seemed to settle into every muscle. With a sigh, he crossed his arms behind his head, allowing his unfocused eyes to fall shut but not expecting to sleep.

The act of sleeping had proven to be more and more difficult over the past two years. He'd spent more nights staring blankly up at the ceiling then he could remember. And even when he'd managed to fall asleep, his dreams were plagued by screeching tires, shattering glass, and green, murky water.

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The sound of children screaming happily outside on the campground startled him awake. Lurching violently into consciousness, Noll let out a low groan. His hip rolled uncomfortably stiff over his makeshift bed, popping as he turned onto his other side. It didn't immediately occur to him that someone may have been trying to wake him until he laid back down, nursing his aching pelvis, and jerked at the sound of a soft tap on the door.

"Naru?"

He groaned again. Lin's deep voice seeped through the door with ease, just loud enough to be heard above the whirring of the A/C. Noll peeled an eye open, glaring at the small window on the other side of the room and the golden orange rays of sun that slipped around its thin blinds.

He blinked. Was it sunset already? The divers would be forced to retire their search soon, and his brother would be spending another day at the bottom of that lake.

Another knock on the door left a dull ringing noise in his head. Noll didn't answer. He listened to the Chinese man call his name once more before he sighed and the porch creaked, protesting under his weight. "Get some sleep, Noll," he said in English, "your parents will be here in the morning."

Don't do anything reckless. Noll heard the underlying message in the Chinese man's innocuous tone. Then the porch creaked again and he was gone.

Noll draped his arm over his eyes in surrender.

* * *

Part II

"Noll?" Someone shook him. "Noll, wake up please."

"Leave him alone, Lu. He's just sleeping."

"He's on the floor, Martin." The female voice snapped back. Her tone softened as a warm hand shook Noll's shoulder again. "Oliver, please."

He peeled his eyes open, cringing against the sudden onslaught of light. The scent of lavender and mint greeted him and for a single, blissful moment, Noll could have sworn he was back in his bedroom in England. It was as if… it had all been some sort of nightmare. He squinted up at the small figure framed against the light, "Luella?"

Luella's deep perse-colored eyes bore into his dark ones, crinkling a bit at the edges as she smiled. "Good morning, how are you feeling?"

Beside her, a man's lined, genial face peered at him with a look of strained relief. "Sorry to wake you," he said lightly, "but your mother was worried."

Noll blinked, holding his eyes closed for a moment too long. This wasn't England. This hard tatami mat beneath him was a horrible excuse for his bed and Gene was — Noll sucked down a breath. A dull ache in his shoulder began to throb. Gene was the reason he was here. And Noll was the reason his adoptive parents were crouched over him on the floor, dark smudges forming beneath their eyes like bruises and fresh off an airplane.

Embarrassment threatened to heat his cheeks. The last time they'd been like this he'd been twelve years old and filled with such raw psychokinetic energy that he'd nearly destroyed the Davises living room. He'd awoken on the floor much like this with Luella, Martin, and his brother baring down on him.

Noll felt a frown pull at his lips. He pushed himself into a half-sitting position, pausing to rub the remainders of sleep from his eyes. His parents were looking after him with such a look of worry that it spurred him into speech. "How did you get in?" he asked, feeling the indention of the key pressed into his skin from sleep. As far as he was concerned he'd had the only copy — but no, that was stupid. Surely, the rental office kept a master key of all their cabin's in case of emergency.

"The manager unlocked the door for us. Lin, uh, explained the situation." Luella explained.

"It was a bit of a struggle," Martin said, "It seems they aren't too happy with the way you're using their property."

"Yes, well, they should appreciate me removing the body from their lake."

The loudest silence Noll had ever heard deafened the small cabin. Luella's eyebrows pinched together. She was so close to him, Noll could make out the exact moment her eyes welled with tears.

He looked away, "Sorry."

Martin's shoulders had gone very stiff. The hand closest to his wife twitched as if he were longing to pull her into a comforting embrace, but was stopping himself. They both stared at the same fray in the tatami's woven straw. "Are you… are you quite sure, Oliver? He's… Gene's here?" Martin's baritone voice broke at the sound of Gene's name.

Noll nodded.

Luella collapsed. She bent double, burying her face in her hands, her short, muted whimper punctuated the silence. Martin wrapped his arms tentatively around her slumping shoulders as if expected her to rebut him. When she didn't, he didn't pull her close, but rubbed soothing circles into her arm with his thumb, watching her sobbing form with tired eyes.

For the first time, Noll could see the physical effect of Gene's death on his parents. The few weeks he'd spent at home while they waited for any kind of news from the Japanese police, he'd always been in danger of finding Luella crying over one of Gene's misplaced shirts, or at the kitchen table staring blankly at the opposite wall. Martin, on the other hand, could rarely be found at home. He busied himself at the office, throwing himself into his research with new cases and finding excuses to be alone in his office. Noll hadn't been alarmed at their behavior; it was to be expected. He himself had been in a subtle form of shock, whittling away the hours by scouring any maps of Japanese waterways her could get his hands on and avoiding the color green.

Now, however, things were different. He was different. Noll had come to terms with the permeate absence of his twin, away from the big empty London manor. Apparently, time had not changed anything for his grieving parents. If possible, they looked even more distant from each other than they had before.

None of the Davises moved until Luella's sobs slowed and stuttered, turning into silent, sporadic hiccups. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, graciously accepting the tissue Martin offered her. "I'm s-sorry," she stuttered in between hiccups, "It's just—"

"We know," Martin hummed softly, "We miss him too."

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Sometimes before noon the trio of Davises had made it off the floor of the cabin's small living room and made their way to the even smaller kitchen where Luella busied herself by making tea.

Noll sipped at the cup she set in front of him, frowning at it. Something was different. It didn't taste the same as it used too — or perhaps he'd grown too used to Mai's unique brand of tea. He pushed the cup in a slow circle, entranced by the dark, peppery scent. Lemon. Didn't Mai put lemon in her tea? He always thought it'd tasted distinctly citrusy.

At the other end of the table, Martin was looking particularly awkward as he tipped the kettle and poured himself a second cup. "So… Lin told us your, uh, employees are staying here as well."

Noll took another sip and held back a grimace. Milk. Mai always added a splash of milk to his tea. "They are no longer employed by SPR."

Martin, who'd been blowing the steam off his cup place it back on the table with a clang. "Why not?"

Maybe if he ran into her later, Mai would— "I informed them that my time in Japan was ending and that the office would be closing as soon as my…" Noll spared a glance at Luella who had found the small collection of rations he and Lin had brought from a nearby convenience store. "…business here was complete." He finished quietly.

"That must have shocked them," Martin had followed his gaze to his wide and was watching her busy herself over a pan of eggs.

Noll spared a brief thought as to where she was finding all this cookware. "I suppose so."

"Then they're staying here out of concern for you? Sounds like you've established quite a strong bond with them."

"I told them they had no business here anymore," Noll scoffed. It'd been a while since the last time he'd spoken English for any amount of time and the words sounded foreign to him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't quite rid himself of his comfortable Japanese accent. "Apparently, that only strengthened their resolve to stay. I'd hardly consider that a 'bond'. More like insubordination."

"Well, seeing as they are no longer under your employment, they have the right to stay if they feel the need."

"Yeah," Noll breathed over the top of his teacup, "So I've been told."

Luella scrounged up some severely dated plateware from one of the cabinets and served them all a plate of scrambled eggs with a flourish. It's been so long since he'd eaten, Noll's stomach pinched painfully at the sight.

She handed him a set of wooden chopsticks. "You should introduce us, Noll."

He nearly spit out his tea. "What?" he choked.

Luella took up the seat to his left. "You can't blame us for being interested. You've hired six employees since you've been here, and that's rather… unlike you. These people must be very skilled."

Noll watched her sip her lukewarm tea, noticing that she'd placed a similar plate in front of Martin, but didn't have anything herself. "You've read Lin's reports, haven't you?"

Martin had apparently noticed the same thing. He was eyeing Luella with a sort of preoccupied concern. "That's correct."

Noll glared down into the dark liquid swirling in his cup, "Then you know that while they are quite powerful in their respective spiritual resonances, they are also blithering idiots."

"Oliver!" Luella chastised him, but her tone fell flat. Even the stern look she was trying to level him with wasn't as stony as it should have been.

"Clearly, he is still cross about the situation." Martin teased, and upon seeing Noll's face, he explained, "Lin told us what happened. In my opinion, they have to be rather keen to figure all that out. I'm betting you didn't make it easy."

"They were stretching." Noll lifted a the teacup to his lips in response.

"Still," Luella set down her own cup, letting it clang lightly against the wooden table. "I would like to meet the people my son has been spending his time with for the last two years. I would like to thank them."

"If you don't," Martin continued, meeting his wife's eyes with a knowing look, "Madoka will."

Noll blanched. "Madoka's here?" The last thing he wanted was his mentor getting in the way of things again. Nothing good could ever come from Madoka's meddling.

"Of course. She flew in with us."

Noll pushed himself rather quickly to his feet, his chair scraping against the floor. "I just remembered, I never told Lin—"

"Oh, Oliver, don't disturb them. They haven't seen each other in months."

Noll was finding it harder and harder to keep his determinedly passive face. He ran a hand through his hair, half wondering if he looked as mussed and well-worn as his parents. "Lin should be finishing the reports on the Yoshimi case. They can catch up when we're all back in England."`

As he turned away, heading for the door, Luella called after him, "Noll, your breakfast!"

"I've lost my appetite."

* * *

Part III

The breeze felt cool against his flushed face as he leapt down the cabin's short porch. The grass squelched under his weight, swallowing the sole of his shoe before he could pull it free again. It must have rained sometime while he was sleeping. He pulled his other shoes free, heading for the muddy dirt path. He didn't really feel the need to check in on Madoka and Lin, but it'd proven a convenient excuse not to stay in that cabin a moment longer than necessary. Unfortunately, now he was condemned to either walking aimlessly or visiting the — no. He didn't think he could stomach the lake just yet.

Thankfully, a distraction arrived in the form of Mai. She was only just inside the edge of the forest, leaning back against a rather dead looking tree and staring up at the overcast sky. He could just make out the movement of her lips. She was talking to someone, then. Yes, now he could see the dark-haired boy turned away from view, leaning against that same tree. Maybe he should leave her alone — but there was something familiar about the slope of the boy's shoulders.

It wasn't Yasuhara-san, nor could that dark hair have belonged to John or Takigawa-san. So, then who?

"Mai," He shouted, unsure what made him do it. Her name seemed to come more easily to him that any other.

Her brown eyes fell from the sky, widening as they found him. "Naru?" she asked, her voice nearly lost to the wind that shook the last remaining leaves atop the tree. She whipped around, stepping back from the tree to see its other side, "but… who…?"

He followed her gaze to the other side of the tree where the black-haired boy had been only a few seconds ago. Now, however, their eyes fell on the deliberately empty space between that tree and the next. Could he have been mistaken? Had there really been someone there, or was it just a trick of the light?

"Who were you talking to?" He asked, distantly. He wasn't really interested but it was polite to make conversation before ordering someone to do something; even if he had been ordering Mai to make him tea for years. However, his patience was already running thin — being with his parents tended to do that to him. And so, without giving her time to answer he add, "Mai, do you think you could—"

It was only the shocked expression on Mai's ashen face that could have stopped him from finishing his request. She whirled back around, looking pale and tired. "If-if it wasn't you…"

He inclined his head cajolingly. Maybe purifying all those young spirits,the other day had begun to take its toll on her. "There's no one there, Mai."

She frowned at him, "But," she said, crossing her arms. "I could have sworn I was talking to you."

"Nonsense," he said, "I haven't seen you since—" he stopped himself just short of saying 'last night'. He didn't know how she would take to knowing he'd hidden his identity from her the past two years now that she'd had time to process it. "Since yesterday."

The resolve in his tone made her deflate. She suddenly looked very unsure of herself as she lifted a finger to her lips. "Am I dreaming?"

"Do you normally dream about me?"

He'd only meant it as a joke but the bright red flush that crept up her neck was so unexpected that Noll felt it necessary to take a step back. If he didn't know better he would have thought he'd hit a nerve or something.

Mai patted her cheeks, squeezing her eyes shut. "No, it can't be. You would never look at me like that if this were a dream."

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, taking a tentative step closer. He glanced again toward the darker side of the tree, feeling as if he were missing something. Was it a trick of the light, or had there really been someone there? Someone neither of them had seen move or leave. Someone that just disappeared from existence. Someone that looked like him.

"I mean — nothing!" Mai cried out. She held herself tightly across the stomach as if keeping herself together. "Never you mind."

"No," Naru stared at her, wide-eyed. He recalled the figure with a mop of black hair and sloping shoulders. "Who were you talking to just now?"

Something inside Mai seemed to break. Tears welled in her eyes as her arms fell limp, small hands balled into shaking fists. "No! Just… what does it matter?"

"It matters to me!" he seethed through gritted teeth. He pinched his eyes shut, took a breath and opened them again, mastering himself. "You said you were talking to me? How long has this been going on?"

"Since the beginning!" she squeaked. Balling her hands into tight fists by her side, she refused to look at him.

Since the… beginning? Suddenly every random declaration Mai had ever made on a case came into sharp relief. In the end, all that will remain will be the most powerful spirit, right? Now that he thought about it, it made all the sense in the world. Those had been Gene's words, hadn't they? He'd been meddling since the beginning.

Noll pushed his palms to his eyes, groaning, "...it couldn't be... that idiot."

"...huh?" Mai's breathy intone seemed to echo in the space between them. He could feel her wide eyes on him, searching his face for the answers he didn't want to give. Not now; not when it felt like the world was pressing down on him.

"You're mistaken," he said, his voice stronger than he felt. Why did it have to be like this? He thought he could have taken it if he hadn't known, but now… Now it felt as if Gene were laughing at him from the grave. That damn idiot.

Mai narrowed her eyes at him, sniffling, wiping away the tears with the back of her hand. "What do you mean?"

"You haven't been talking to me," he said to her sandaled feet. He couldn't stand the sight of more tears welling in her eyes. "It's Gene."

More sniffling. "Who?"

He placed his pale hand to his clammy forehead, thinking, for a moment, about telling her off. It was none of her business, really, but he was the one who had sought her out. He'd had enough time to back away, to end it before it got this far, but it was too late now. He had started this and he needed to end it. "Eugene. My brother..."

When she didn't say anything right away he chanced a glance at her face, saw the tears rolling with renewed vigor down her face, and promptly directed his face skyward. What did Gene think he was doing, acting the hero? Had he really fallen so low that he needed some dead mediums help?

But then again… if Mai had been receiving help from Gene this whole time… had Noll ever solved any case without his help? Or was he so completely useless…

"That… no." Mai was blithering, "There's no way I would mistake you, even if you were brothers."

He looked at her again; really looked at her. Her shoulder's slumped as if by curling in on herself she could somehow shield herself from the shock of it. Her dark eyes were rimmed with red, staring dolefully up at him; her lips pursed in a sort of defiant pout. He shook his head at her, mournfully. Why did it have to be this way? Even in death, Gene had found a way to meddle in his life. Why hadn't it been me?

"No." he said finally, forcefully. He dropped his hand back to his side, wondering why he was still bothering with this conversation. He'd interrupted what was probably to be her last conversation with Gene and when she realized that, she would surely hate him. That was what he wanted, wasn't it? He swallowed hard, "It's Gene."

"But—"

"Mai, we're…" he sighed. Why was this so painful? "…We're twins."

"Twins?" she repeated, looking positively dumbfounded. "Do-do you mean—"

He glared at her, feeling an anger welling up inside his chest. It was a feeling akin to those he was privy to as a child just before something terrible happened. "It wasn't me, Mai." Why couldn't just understand that? Why couldn't anyone?

"But-but—" Mai's fingers were pressed against her lips, almost as if she were going to bite them. Suddenly, she blurted, "How could I have known?"

The words startled him. They almost seemed to seep past his skin, striking bone. Her eyes were blazing, staring resolutely at the ground. The tears falling over her cheeks now were not those of anger or surprise. They were of mourning. Of … heartbreak.

"Hey!" A distant voice called, "What are you two doing all alone?"

Noll stiffened. He'd almost forgotten they were only half-hidden on the inner lip of the forest surrounding the cabins were anyone exiting said cabins would be likely to see them. Still, was it impossible to be alone in this place? With the amount of time Noll was spending in total irritation, it was beginning to feel like a second skin. The feeling only grew in intensity as he and Mai turned to see Madoka making her way toward them, followed by a rather stout looking Lin.

"Madoka." He said, nodding once, "Lin."

"...Mori-san?" Mai asked, disbelief marring her confusion. She looked from Lin to Madoka, then back again, an unspoken question forming on her lips.

"We're just here as family friends this time, Mai-chan," Madoka said rather more cheerfully than Noll would have liked. He eyed Lin conspiratorially but the tall Chinese man kept his gaze firmly on Mai. Madoka turned a frosty smile on Noll, "Why aren't you with your parents?"

"What's it matter to you?" he asked, voice as frosty as her smile. He wasn't in the mood to be manipulated or told what to do. Suddenly, the lake was beginning to look like the place to be at the moment. He turned toward the sound of the water. "Excuse me—"

"No you don't," Madoka said, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "You're going to go right back to your parents until — oh look, here they come now."

Sure enough, Martin and Luella hadn't so much as stepped off the front porch of the farthest cabin before they spotted the four of them. Noll glared at the pair of them, feeling as if the space between them had grown since the last time. Usually when they walked, they had a way of holding hands or walking so close it was a miracle they didn't step on each other. Now though, it seemed as if they were saving a space for someone to walk in between them. He swallowed and looked away.

Madoka waved them over. "We were just talking going to get you," she said as soon as they were close enough, "I thought you might like to meet the whole SPR team."

"Oh, yes," Luella replied immediately, "We were just talking about that with Noll."

Noll didn't say a word. He gazed longingly down at the edge of the lake, part of him wishing he were the one lying buried beneath the freezing water. The other part just wishing Madoka would let go of him.

Thankfully, a moment later she did, using the arm to gesture to a very abashed Mai. "This is Taniyama Mai. I'm sure Lin's told you all about her."

"Not as much as I would have liked. You know how those two are," Luella said, smiling at the short brown-haired girl hovering just outside their small circle, "Hello, dear. I'm Luella Davis, Oliver's mother. This is my husband, Martin."

Mai blushed furiously, whether from being addressed by 'dear', or simply being spoken to in English, Noll couldn't tell. She bowed quickly. "Pleased to meet you, Naru's family."

Luella and Martin mirrored her bow. Martin turned to Madoka, "Are the others still here? I would like to speak with them." He said, sounding every bit the professor he was. Stern, but kind. He gave Mai a small smile, saying, "My Japanese isn't very good but I'm lucky enough to have three perfectly capable translators here."

Noll gave a loud snort of exasperation. This didn't go unnoticed by anyone, least of all Luella whose gaze softened. "You look unwell, Noll. Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," he said tersely. Why couldn't anyone see that he only wanted to be alone? Why was everyone so slow on the uptake?

Luella persisted. "Come, have a cup of tea."

"I'm not thirsty."

"Since when did you have to be thirsty to have tea?" Madoka argued, already leading the rest toward the cabin the female members of SPR had rented out.

Noll turned once against toward the lake, sparing his loathsome mentor from his rising temper. "Leave me alone."

Luella threaded her arm through his, replacing the spot Madoka had only just vacated, and pulled him along behind her. At his unpleasant expression, she smiled, "C'mon sweetie, we could all use—"

"I'm not Gene." He didn't know what made him say it. The words felt as if he were admitting guilt to a crime. As if being himself was something illegal, something to be punished, but the words fell from his lips before he could stop them.

Luella froze mid-stride, her knuckles white on his arm. In front of them, Martin, Lin, and Madoka stood dazed.

"I…" Luella's voice was soft. A whisper. "I never said…"

Noll wrenched his arm from her. She didn't fight. He stepped back, keeping his eyes firmly on the ground. If he looked at them… he didn't know if he would have the strength. "I'm not Gene." He said again, voice raising. He didn't know why he felt he need to yell, but the feeling of being unheard suddenly seized him. "I never will be."

When did he start shaking? Noll clenched his fist. For a long, pregnant moment, no one spoke. Noll's chest heaved as if he'd been in the middle of one of Lin's qigong practices. Blood rushed passed his ears.

Martin was the first to speak. He approached his son with raised hands, as if declaring amity to a wild animal. "Oliver, are you feeling all right?"

Noll took a step back. Anger, hatred, and confusion all vying for dominance.

How could I have known? The memory of Mai's tear-stained face invaded his thoughts, steeled him.

She preferred Gene. It wasn't a surprise. Everyone always preferred Gene. What he told Mai was the truth. Who would choose someone ill-tempered over someone kind and understanding if they shared the same face?

Noll was nothing without Gene. Without him, what was he worth? Despite himself, Noll glanced up, finding the fear-filled eyes of his parents. If they had had a choice—

"You wish it was me," he said. His voice was so soft, so calm that even he didn't recognize it. He stared blankly at the lake visible just over Martin's shoulder. "When I told you he was dead. You… wished it was me."

Luella's soft gasp was lost amid the torrent of happily laughing families that passed a few yards away, on their way to the lake. That damned lake. Luella's bony hand flitted to her throat. Martin stumbled sideways, mouth opening and closing, but no sound forming.

They didn't have to say anything. Noll could see the truth in their eyes.

Finally, Martin found his voice. "Oliver, that's… that's not true—"

"Don't lie to me!" Noll seethed. His heart was thumping hard in his throat, eyes prickling at the edges. He whipped around, blue eyes furious — only to find his way blocked.

Takigawa-san, John, Yasu, Matsuzaki-san, Hara-san, and — his heart wrenched — Mai were standing only a few feet away, staring at him. He jumped from face to face, feeling for the first time, the hot tears dripping down his cheeks. He didn't bother wiping them.

He felt the inexplicable feeling of someone standing just behind him, felt Lin's warm hand grip his forearm. The energy swirling, agitated, within him reached before he could stop it. There was a spark, an electric buzz, and Lin's pain-filled hiss.

"Don't touch me." Noll held the place where Lin touched him, as if his hand could somehow stem the flow of psychokinetic energy leaking from him. He bit his lip, feeling the imbalance the small demonstration made, and withdrawing it back unto himself. Was this what he was now?

"Naru—"

"Noll!"

Someone called for him, a mix of English and Japanese, but he turned on his heel before he could cause any more damage. He had no destination; his feet took him away from everything he knew and before he realized, he was surrounded once again by trees.

It was immediately obvious that no one had followed him. The only sound was the sporadic chirruping of birds and the distant sound of running water.

He must have walked for longer than he'd thought, trenching deeper into the wood, until the sun was nearly blocked completely by the thick canopy. The heat no longer seemed to bother him as he continued, his thoughts, for the first time since arriving in Japan, becoming clearer; regret setting in.

He supposed he shouldn't have done what he did, but he couldn't deny the sincerity of his words. He'd stopped crying, but the tears were still sticky on his skin. He whipped at them with his sleeve. Even though he hadn't really thought about it before, it felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. Like he was finally free from Gene's shadow.

—Her soft gasp was his only warning to her presence. He stopped suddenly, searching for the source of the sound when he saw her. At first, her face held no meaning. There was no familiarity in her dark eyes, yet he found himself unable to look away. She looked like some of his clients; someone who had foregone sleep for days, her red hair framing her pale face in untidy waves. The large purple bruises beneath her dead eyes held the look of permanent anguish.

She looked… haunted.

She froze when she saw him, visibly shaken as her eyes grew wide, her mouth falling open in a silent gasp. "Y-you...!"

Noll turned toward her, crossing his arms. He didn't know this woman, but it seemed, she knew him. For a second, he allowed the annoyance to show on his face. Was she a disgruntled client? He didn't think so, but it certainly wasn't impossible that he'd turned her away and simply forgot her.

As he stared, the woman stumbled backward, jabbing a shaking finger in his direction. "Why are you — what do you want from me?!"

"What nonsense—?" he started, but the breath caught in his throat, muting him. He felt himself sway, dizzy as he watched her lips move in another shout that he couldn't hear over the blood rushing past his ears.

It wasn't… it… it couldn't be…

A red car speeding around the hairpin bend too fast to stop in time. Screeching tires, a long, shrill scream. The sound of a car door opening and a pair of slender, high-heeled legs staggering toward him. He'd been haunted by this memory for too long not to know he'd finally found her.

A light, warm breeze blew around them, twirling her ragged, worn skirt; toying with his hair. Where did she come from? The park? It was hard to imagine that such a person would return to the scene of a murder, unless…

Gene.

His eyes widened, jaw falling slack. It seemed his dearly departed brother had been busy in his afterlife. Not only did he find it in himself to solve all his cases for him, but to lead his murderer directly to the only person who would recognize her for what she was.

Shaking in fear and trepidation, the woman shouted, voice breaking, "If you've come to kill me — it's too late!"

He watched as she dug into the small bag that hung loosely off her shoulder. He didn't know what he expected her to retrieve from the bag but he realized now that he should have recognized the forlorn look in her eyes. When she retracted her hand gripping a bulky, smoke-grey handgun, he could have laughed.

It wasn't funny; not really. But if he really were the vengeful ghost she had mistaken him for, then the gun she was pointing straight at his chest wouldn't have made much of an impact. Surely this woman realized ghosts were already dead.

Her hands were shaking, finger splayed over the trigger. Then, almost as if she heard his thoughts, she turned the gun on herself, pushing it right up against her temple.

Fear spider webbed in his chest. What a coward, he thought. So afraid of her crimes that she would take her own life instead of owning up to what she'd done. He frowned down at her. This was not how his search would end — he would not allow it. He wanted, no; he deserved justice for the death of his brother. For the hell she had put him through. He wanted—

He lunged for her.

Her eyes grew wide, fearful. She screamed as his hands wrapped firmly around the barrel, overpowering her. Her hands were hot beneath his, burning him. Their eyes met; dark blue on murky brown.

A shot rang out.

He felt the burn of the gun powder on his shirt, ears ringing as he stumbled back. The woman watched him, slack jawed. Paralyzed with fear, he realized the bullet must have missed a split second before the anguish registered on her face. Shrieking, sobbing now, she robotically raised the gun back to her temple.

This time he didn't even try to stop her. Noll pinched his eyes shut, not wanting to see as turned on his heel and ran.

.

.

BANG.

* * *

A/N: This story was written in celebration of the twins' birthday. Stick with me and everything will be okay. ;)

Huge thank you to SymmetricalGirl8DeathTheKid for keeping me sane while I wile away my time second-guessing myself and for being a great beta. And another to Lily from GhosthuntHQ for beta-ing this for me too. Ya'll both amazing people.

See you all next week,

ELV


	2. Anger

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.

 _Old age should burn and rave at close of day;  
-Dylan Thomas._

 _._

 _._

 **CHAPTER 2:** Anger

He ran.

Panic and adrenaline flooded his system, burning his chest with the pain of it. The low tree branches whipped across his face and arms, but he was without feeling. Terror churned his stomach, his meager breakfast threatening to make a second appearance. He screamed.

It was the kind of scream that tore at the throat and ripped through the air. The pain of it was a momentary distraction. The uneven forest floor blurred pasta him, a blur of brown and gold. Faster than he thought, he could see the edge where the thick canopy gave way to undisturbed sunshine.

He closed his eyes — saw the ghost of _her_ lying prone among the broken branches — and opened them again. He was going to be sick. The muscles of his stomach clenched; he doubled over, stumbling through the last of the trees and into the light. The fresh air did nothing for him. Bile rose in his throat and he retched. The taste of blood and something metallic coated the inside of his mouth. He spit and his stomach settled once again.

It was with a glance up from his knees that he realized where he was. A disjointed cluster of cabins was just in front of him, arranged in a sloppy half-circle. The camp — he was back at the camp. The chatter from the lake was audible even from this distance. He straightened.

He had to tell someone — anyone.

 _What does it matter?_ piped a small voice in the back of his mind. _She got what she deserved, didn't she?_ Would he have really been satisfied if she'd gone to jail? Would it have been worth all the legalities; the effort? Would it bring _him_ back?

Wasn't she better off dead?

Noll took a step toward the lake just as a girl with short brown hair cut across his path. It took a certain presence of mind to keep himself from jabbing her with his shoulder. "Mai?" he said, a little out of breath. She certainly wouldn't have been his first choice, but he was losing his nerve. He had to tell someone. "Mai."

Either she hadn't heard him or she was deliberately ignoring him. She was walking slowly, without any real purpose, her arms crossed and head bent low.

He skipped a few paces until he caught up to her, pushing the hair out of his eyes. She still didn't look at him but shivered slightly. "Mai," he said again, softly. "Something… something really terrible—"

She came to a stop so suddenly it took him half a step to realize that she was no longer beside him. He turned to look at her, expecting some sort of backlash from his outburst earlier, but it never came. Her face was twisted in a sort of significant expression he had never seen on her before, her sad brown eyes focused on something just over his shoulder. "Lin-san…?"

Noll glanced behind him, following her gaze to the towering figure hurrying across the squelching, wet grass. Despite what he had felt toward the Chinese man over the last couple of hours, Noll felt an immense rush of relief wash down over him. Here was someone who he could confide in; someone who could _do_ something. "Lin!" he called out, but Lin didn't stop.

He didn't even spare a glance in his direction as he took off in the direction of the lake. Noll spirited after him.

"Lin!"

Heedless of the sun beginning its descent and the lingering, uncomfortable heat, the lake side was beset with camp-goers. Some were still in their bathing suits, others wrapped in colorfully striped beach towels, but none, Noll noticed, were in the water. In fact, it almost seemed that they were giving the lake's edge a wide berth, all clustered together in packs of three or four, whispering.

Lin made his way easily through the crowd, but Noll took longer, slowing to catch his breath as he slipped between the on-lookers. He lost sight of his chaperone for a long, terse moment when a pale, heavy-set man in just his swimming trunks stepped carelessly in front of him.

"Excuse me," Noll muttered tersely, sparing a look at the strange bruise around the man's neck before stepping around him. The man turned at the sound of his voice, stopping between two chattering girls to get a better look at Noll, but he was already gone.

Noll spotted Lin, chest heaving, standing awkwardly between two groups of camp-goers. He didn't notice Noll's noisy approach, nor did he look away from the edge of the lake as Noll leaned his palms on his knees, breathing heavily.

"Lin!" he sputtered, "I — she —" he paused, took another breath, but whatever he'd been about to say died on his lips. He'd only just realized what everyone was staring at.

There, only a few feet from the lakes stony beach, was a bundle of violently yellow sheets. Two men clad toe to neck in black wet suits stood grimly at either end of the bundle. The divers, Noll's mind reminded him. Then that meant... that bundle of sheets...

Suddenly Martin appeared from somewhere within the crowd, ignoring the divers' protests to stay back.

"It's okay," Martin said. His shoulders rose and fell in a deep breath before he slowly sank into a kneel.

Noll swallowed. It should have been him. _He_ should have been there, kneeling in the mud beside that makeshift casket, not Martin. Gene had been the only thing he'd had left, his only blood relative.

He should be there. But his legs wouldn't move. Martin peeled back the soiled, soggy lip of the sheets and grimaced. From this distance, Noll could see a tuft of sleek black hair. His stomach turned, waiting for a word from his father even though there was no doubt in his mind; it was him.

After an eternity, Martin folded the sheet back, gentle, and pushed himself to his feet, nodding. " _Thank you,_ " he choked out, his Japanese marred only by his prominent English accent. The divers bowed in dissent and Martin turned his back to the makeshift body bag.

Luella stood meters back from the scene, tears falling in earnest down her pink cheeks. When he reached her, Martin pulled her tight embrace, much like the one they had when Noll had first told them his brother would not be coming home.

Lin's face remained impassive as he witnessed the scene, though his shoulders visibly slumped at Martin's grim expression.

"Is that...?" Mai had also appeared from the crowd, suddenly taking place on the other side of Lin. She was holding herself, shivering, her eyes red, leftover tears still residing there. Her thin jacket flapped idly in the breeze as she attempted to wipe her eyes.

Lin didn't look as if he was going to answer her and so Noll crossed his arms over his chest, having completely forgotten his panic at the sight of his brother's body. "Yes," he said simply.

The divers' seized either end of the sheet, lifting it from the ground. It sagged with the weight of Gene's body. Mai let out a muted sob, her shoulders slumping forward, drawing into herself.

Martin pulled out of the embrace, still rubbing small circles into his sniffling wife's back. "C'mon," he said, softly. Noll could barely hear him over the increased mumbling of the gathered crowd, "Let's head back to the cabin, Lu,"

"Davis-san?" Takigawa-san's English was almost as bad as Martin's Japanese. He edged his way through the crowd, sidling up beside the grief-stricken pair with a placating smile. What he said next was drowned out by the gasp of the crowd as the divers' made their way through the throng, hauling the remains between them. Somebody gagged as they passed.

" _It is really a body?"_

 _"No way… we were swimming in that lake!"_

Noll growled. They had just pulled a decaying body from the lake and all those people could think about was themselves? _They don't know_ , he reminded himself, _they can't possibly know_. He moved purposely away from them, making his way toward his parents and Takigawa-san the three of them turned away from him.

The crowd parted for them, curious faces following them as they made for the ring of cabins. He could just make out Martin saying, "Come, love. Let's have some tea."

* * *

Part II

"Mai-chan, would you mind making tea for everyone?" Takigawa-san asked as Mai and Noll trudged through the door.

The latter hadn't wanted to go to the cabin at all; the last thing he wanted was to condemn himself to more probing questions and fits of crying, but he'd hardly had any choice. Despite what he felt, it would have been disgraceful to abandon him parents at a time like this. So, begrudgingly, Noll had trailed apathetically behind Mai who was still sniffling gently, wiping stray tears from her cheeks.

Mai had halted so suddenly in the doorway that Noll had been forced to skirt around her. She turned to shut the door, "I don't mind, Bou-san," she said, slipping off her shoes. Her voice was still thick from crying, "but I might need some help."

Noll, halfway through taking off his own shoes, raised his head, "I'llー"

"I'll help, Mai-chan," John said standing from his position cross-legged on the floor.

Unable, or perhaps, unwilling to insist on something so mundane without drawing undue attention to himself, Naru turned away from the pair now making their way to the kitchen. With deliberate sluggishness, he untied his laces, pulled off his shoes, and arranged them neatly beside the others.

When he righted himself again, his eyes immediately found the seat beside his parents left, perhaps deliberately, empty. There was no way he was going to sit there. Unfortunately, there wasn't much of an option. The irregulars had scattered themselves throughout the cabin; both Hara-san and Matsuzaki-san had taken refuge on the loveseat adjacent to the couch. Madoka sat perched on the armrest of the only chair where Lin sat, stone faced. Yasuhara-san and Takigawa-san stood behind the loveseat, exchanging weary glances. Hara-san was gazing pensively at the place just beside Noll. He looked away. He didn't know why. Something about the emptiness of her gaze. It almost felt as if she weren't looking at him but _through_ him. X-raying him.

He kept his gaze trained on the movement of his own feet across the tatami floor, but the feeling didn't fade. It was only when he took to leaning against the wall separating the kitchen from the living area that he looked up again. Hara-san was hiding behind her kimono sleeve, her eyes just visible over the maroon colored fabric. She was staring hard at the floor, eyebrows knitted together.

"I'm sorry," Luella choked out, her grasp of the Japanese language far better than her husbands. She, at least, had attempted to speak with her adopted sons in their native tongue. Or perhaps she just hated not knowing what it was they were saying behind her back. "It's just… just so real now."

"We are very sorry for your loss, Davis-san."

"Thank you, Takigawa-san." Martin said, dolefully, "I never doubted Noll's abilities but I can't deny… I was hoping..."

"Oh, Gene," Luella lifted a shaking hand to her lips.

Noll leaned back against the wall, half watching Mai worrying over the steaming kettle and the abstentious space between his parents' hunched bodies. Despite sitting beside each other, the only part of them touching was Martin's arm draped consolingly across his wife's shoulders.

Luella's sobs had only just subsided when Mai and John returned to hand out cups of tea. Luella turned her bright purple eyes on John, giving him a watery smile of thanks. "You must be John," she said in English, "You're a catholic priest?"

"Uh, yes," John said, smiling back.

The rest of the group turned confused gazes on Lin who looked relatively unabashed. Noll directed his glare at the Chineses man's hand where a thin welt had bubbled up from the pale skin across his palm. A part of Noll felt a twinge of regret at the sight, the consequence of coming into contact with unbridled PK. The other part of him felt justified.

"I sent the professor periodic updates on our progress." Lin explained, "I found it imperative to mention that Naru had hired a small group of spiritualists."

Takigawa chuckled from his position behind the couch, "All this time I thought Lin-san didn't like us."

"He was spying on us this whole time." Matsuzaki-san said, crossing her arms and throwing a pointed look at Lin. "I hardly find that being friendly."

Martin, oblivious to the foreign conversation, extended his hand to John who shook it once, "Martin Davis."

Noll's eyes flickered from them to Mai who was handing the last of her cups to Madoka and Lin, her hair falling into her eyes as she bowed slightly and turned heel. He watched her move across the room with her head still bent. When she passed him, she didn't even look up, disappearing back into the kitchen.

He turned slightly, eyes following her across the small room. There were three more cups on the counter that she was struggling to lift. He made to help her but stopped himself. 10 cups of tea for 11 people. He frowned to himself, leaning back against the wall. Was she really still so angry with him that she wouldn't even make him tea?

"Heyー" he started but was interrupted by the faint rustle of fabric.

"Hara-san, are you alright?" Madoka asked, half standing from her perch.

Noll turned just in time to watch Hara-san sway dangerously on the spot. Both Lin and Madoka were there in an instant, hands on her shoulders, steadying her. Hara-san's head was bent but Noll could just make out her smoky grey gaze settling on him from beneath her bangs. When she spoke her voice was light and misty. "I think… I something awful may have happened."

He turned, raising an eyebrow, interest piqued.

Martin looked punitively at Lin for a translation, "What's going on? Is she okay?"

Hara-san raised her head, her gaze still fixated on Noll. As he stared unflinchingly back at her, her eyes began to shine in the light. She was crying?

Noll opened his mouth to speak, but Yasuhara-san beat him to it. "What do you mean 'something awful'?"

She gave a meek sniffle and lifted her kimono sleeve to hide her face. "When John-san and I first arrived here, I could have sworn I felt an otherworldly presence."

"You mean like a ghost?"

Hara-san shook her head. "N-no…" she stuttered, "At first I thought it may be a rogue spirit, but just now…"

Noll turned away. This was of no concern to him, and it looked like Mai was still having trouble. Maybe he should help her.

"Just now… I could have sworn I saw Naru."

His legs wouldn't move. Frozen halfway through the doorway to the kitchen, Noll felt a sudden, brief twinge of pain. He doubled over, knees shaking, but before he could pinpoint the source of the pain, it was gone.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice failed him. Suddenly it felt as if all the air had escaped his lungs. As if he were no longer completely whole. It was the feeling of being _displaced,_ of being wholly unsolid that cut through him like a cold, chilly wind. He gasped, feeling as if his lungs had migrated to his spine — then it was over.

The sound of the shattering tea cup punctuated his breathy yelp. He stumbled backward, away from Mai's bent, trembling form.

Matsuzaki-san and John both raced to Mai's side, helping her back to her feet. She was nearly limp, held between them by the arms. The only sign that she was still conscious was that her hands were covering her face, white at the knuckles. "What happened? Mai-chan?"

They helped her to the couch, stepping carefully over the remains of the shattered tea cup.

"I... I don't k-know." she stammered, her voice muffled by her hands. She shivered, "It's… it's so _cold_."

Noll's back hit the wall. It felt like a hole had opened in his chest. The wall behind him felt so _solid_ pressing against his shoulder blades. But — Mai — A shiver racked his spine. A part of him still felt as though it were detached. Lost forever.

He looked down at his clenched fists. It was shaking.

"Noll?"

His head shot up so face his head swam. His father wasn't looking up at him. Rather, he was leaning forward, perched on the edge of his seat looking pensive. "I haven't seen Noll since… hasn't anyone seen him?"

A dark, righteous anger ripped through Noll. He pushed off the wall, glaring frostily down at his father, "What are you talking—"

The Irregulars exchanged pensive glances, shaking their heads. "I thought he stormed off into the woods?" Matsuzaki-san asked.

"He did," Madoka affirmed. She gestured flippantly to the room at hand, unconcerned. "What was he thinking, losing his temper like that?"

Noll lurched forward another step. There was no way they could keep on ignoring him like this. "Stop messing around!"

Hara-san had gotten to her feet. Noll shrunk back. It was something about the glazed look in her eye as she lifted her clasped hands to her chest that unnerved him. She tilted her head slowly, as if taking him in one limb at a time. His traitorous heart thumped hard in his chest. If he could feel it then…

"I'm positive." Hara-san said again. She was staring at him, or at least, she was staring intently at the place just beside him. "I'm... I'm not mistaken. Naru-chan is here."

The Davises and Lin exchanged painful looks. Luella gave a hearty sniff. "You don't think—?"

Martin nodded apprehensively, "It is a possibility. Though he of all people should know..."

"What is a possibility?"

Noll didn't have to listen to his mother to know where her mind had gone to. She wasn't worried about her living son. Only her dead one. "It is possible, sweetie," she said slowly in Japanese, "that it is Gene's spirit you're seeing?"

"Gene?" Yasuhara-san asked doubtfully. "You mean Naru's older brother?"

"Ah, well," Martin said, "'Older' is kind of misleading. Eugene was only a few minutes older."

"Minutes?" Matsuzaki-san repeated. "Then they were… twins?"

Takigawa-san leaned forward in the space between the priestess and the medium. "Twins?"

Noll groaned inwardly. Explaining it to Mai had been a feat in itself, now, explaining it to everyone… he could practically feel the waves of pity emanating off them already.

"Yes, identical twins." Luella said, smiling a little. She pulled something gleaming out of her pocket, caressing it with her thumb. With a small hiccup, she turned the gleaming picture frame around to the group. Noll couldn't see the picture but he knew which one it was. Luella went on, allowing Mai to take the picture from her, "When they were little, it was practically impossible to tell them apart."

"Right," Martin said, "Hara-san, it could be that you are sensing Gene's spirit. He was a psychic medium, as you are."

"Luella —" Noll whispered, "Martin."

Hara-san narrowed her eyes, pressing her lips into a thin line. "It's… difficult to tell."

"Goddamn it, _look at me!_ "

Now, every eye in the room turned to him. He could hear his own voice echoing back at him, a raucous, strangled cry. There was a familiar synthesis to it he couldn't place. Like it wasn't meant to be there. He lowered his clenched fist, heat burning his cheeks.

"Did…" Yasuhara fixed his glasses that had slipped down his nose, "Did anyone else hear that?"

"No," Noll whispered. He slammed a fist down on the table, but lost his breath when he didn't hit it. His hand phased right _through_ it. The tea cup only a few inches away, shattered. "This… can't be happening. I'm not… I can't be…" _dead._

 _BANG!_ He heard the gunshot again, ringing in his ears and then felt a sharp sting in his stomach that hadn't been there before. He pushed a hand to the area, feeling the wetness of blood as it quickly soaked through his shirt, staining it and his hand. He pulled it away and stared dumbfounded at his own bloody hand.

" _Oh, my God._ " Someone whispered.

Noll looked up. Every horrified eye in the room was trained on him. Noll couldn't help but think, _they can see me_ , as he searched his parent's faces. Luella's was white as a sheet.

"Mom—?"

"—Gene...?"

Noll suppressed a sneer. Why? Why, even now? " _We're not the same!_ " He shouted. His voice came back at him, tinny and broken.

"Naru," Lin started slowly, face ashen but stern, "Noll, what happened?"

"I… I don't know…" he admitted, staring again at his bloodied hand. His stomach was pulsing now, throbbing with a phantom pain threatening to pull him under. Beneath him, his legs shook, unwilling to hold him up much longer. Was it his legs? Or his whole body that was shaking? "I can't be. I'm not... I'm not..." Was this what it was like to be dead? "…The forest. She had a gun."

His words gave way to movement. As if the simple act of speaking had drained the cabin of all colors, darkness pressed in on him. There was no one else there, just him.

"Think, Noll." Lin's voice reached him in the ether. Tendrils of words without meaning.

Noll spun on his heels, searching. But the tall, darkened ferns of the forest were taking the place of the material walls. "Help me!" He shouted into the space. He didn't know if anyone could hear him anymore, but he screamed with all he was worth. " _SOMEONE HELP ME!"_

* * *

 _A/N: Raise your hand if you knew he was dead. C'mon, don't be shy, raise 'em high. Oh, here, have a tissue._

 _So many many thanks to Lily for taking the time to look this over. Your comments and criticism were more than I could have asked for. And to (SymmetricalGirl8DeaththeKid) for being both my confidant and psychiatrist. You are the absolute best.  
_

 _See you next week,_

 _ELV_


	3. Bargaining

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 _Rage, rage against the dying of the light.  
-Dylan Thomas_

.

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 **CHAPTER 3:** Bargaining

The first thing he noticed was the stench of acrid metal. The air was heavy with it, festering in the heat. If he'd had a body, he would have gagged. As it was, the smell made him sick to his stomach. That, and the sound.

The sound of a low, wheezing gasp. It hung in the air as if willing itself to be heard through the trees. Noll didn't have to turn to see what was making such a noise.

His own body was prone at his feet, lying in a bed of yellowing leaves. Hair splayed over them, his eyes were still wide open, staring unseeing into the canopy. The rattling breath were punctured by a quiver of his lips, already speckled with flecks of red.

Noll, the ghost of him at least, swallowed. He didn't want to look, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. He kneeled down, feeling the crunch of the leaves beneath his knees.

How could this not be real?

"Hey," he said, his voice sounding muted; hollow. His body wheezed again. " _Hey!_ "

He reached out, pushing against his own forearm, but it was nothing under his fingers. It was as if he wasn't even there.

"No!" he growled, hands flitting over to the bloodied hole in his abdomen. This time he felt a prickle of heat against his fingertips. It scalded him.

Then it was gone and his hand fell hard against the ground. He seethed, rocking back onto his heels. "Son-of-a-bitch."

"Naru,"

Noll stared down at the quivering lips of his body. The sound of his own voice wrapped warmly around his name was an odd feeling and one that lingered. Could it be that he knew he, himself, was there? In spirit form? He breathed in his own shaking breath; but that was ridiculous. He couldn't know. Without his soul, his body was useless. But... he took in the methodical surge of his chest. He wasn't dead yet, that was certain. Noll felt his eyebrows tighten, pulling together. None of this made sense. How couldー

"Noll,"

This time Noll didn't need to see that his lips never moved to know the voice was not his own; the slight bemused undertone was enough. He turned slowly around but the sight of Eugene leaning casually against the tree, watching Noll with hazy, heavy-lidded eyes, didn't startle him as much as he thought it probably should have.

In fact, now that he was here that thought that he wouldn't be was almost absurd. Noll glared irritably at the fuzzy image of his brother, as if Gene had been late to some sort of prearranged meeting. "What took you so long?"

Gene looked the same as he had the day he left England — well, that wasn't entirely true. His hair had a shaggy, wet quality to it Noll was sure hadn't been there before. It was a detail that suddenly seemed very morose.

The body in front of him gave an abrupt, gurgling rasp, catching his attention. That's right. If Gene were here then… "I guess this means I really am dead." He muttered, turning again from the sight of his mangled body.

Gene didn't reply. He stood there in his favorite white T-shirt and eternally dirty jeans, a lazy smile stretching his lips. The Mona Lisa-like expression was so familiar it was easy to forget how infuriating it had been; how that very expression was the beginning and end of every ill-conceived thought that ever got Noll — not Gene — into trouble.

Noll bristled, "What?"

"It's nice to see you."

The resounding snort echoed tinny in the haze. Noll's mounting tension melted away. Shoulders slumping, he leaned back, finding that he'd somehow moved some distance without even realizing. This didn't seem to bother Gene so Noll balanced against a tree that hadn't been there seconds ago and faced his brother properly. "How… morbid of you."

Gene's smile only widened.

Suddenly, it was as if no time had passed at all. As if Gene had merely been the only player in a game of hide-and-seek; always there but hiding just out of sight. Finally, Noll had found him.

The body behind him gave another quiet, gurgling sound. He didn't turn to look this time. Gene didn't either. His eyes slid over the ground in a way that made Noll think he was afraid to look at it. But then his eyes locked on something only a few meters to the left. His brows furrowed in a way that didn't detail disgust, but loss. Regret.

Noll traced his gaze to a crumpled figure half hidden by a thicket of fallen branches. The same level of nausea hit him as it registered that the dark spots on the trees and leaves were specks of blood. She was not on her back as he was, but sideways and twisted. Her face lost in the dirt. His stomach clenched at the sight of her blood matted hair.

The gun was lost somewhere between the brush and the dark. Noll wondered, for the briefest of moments, if it would ever be found. If someone had ever stumbled upon their bodies, would the truth ever be revealed? Then reality came back to him once again and he remembered that it didn't matter.

He shook his head, "I don't understand it."

"It isn't something that is meant to be understood, Noll." Gene didn't exactly smile. He turned back toward Noll, slowly, but didn't look at. His eyes were wide, focused on something that Noll couldn't quite see. In life, Noll had often thought his brother incapable of hatred. He would get angry, sure; throw fits just as any child would, but it was almost as if he'd never known how to hate. However, on the rare occasion Gene found it especially difficult to find the silver lining of a certain situation, he would take to glaring off in the distance, quite like this. Only, Noll was the situation and neither of them were alive.

"It should have been you," Noll said. When Gene's dark eyes flicked to him in benign misunderstanding, he added, "To live, I mean. Not... not this."

"On the contrary," Gene said, "there was no way it couldn't have been me."

"What does that mean?"

Gene didn't offer a reply, his eyes flicking backward and forward over the emptiness. Noll tried to follow his gaze, but the trees that were not directly in front of him were hazy and ill-formed. Was this what spirits saw? Perhaps. Although… he narrowed his eyes, thinking. In dreams, it was often difficult to make out objects in the background or those not directly related to the subject matter. Could this have simply been a dream? Was it possible he was still on the floor of the far cabin, fast asleep?

He sighed, resigned to glare at the ground at his feet, sighing, "It doesn't matter anymore."

"It matters."

Noll glanced up as his brothers' face wrinkled, eyebrows furrowing.

"It matters," Gene repeated. He shook his head once, hard, as if his own thoughts were causing him pain. "Luella… and Martin."

Noll huffed, turning away. "What about them?"

"They don't deserve this."

"You mean they only deserve one dead son," Noll said, flexing his hands, glancing down at them, "not two?"

If this were a dream, his mind would not be able to imagine the complexity of the human hand. His fingers should have been misnumbered and as blurry as the trees — but here they were, in perfect clarity. He turned away, frowning.

"Don't be stupid," Gene said, "that's not what I meant."

"What _did_ you mean, Eugene?" Noll hissed, clenching his hands into tight fists.

Gene worked his jaw, his mask of cordial indifference faltering. "You know they—"

"I know that it's not _me_ they care about," Noll seethed. He threw his arms wide, daring the ethereal silence to object. In a heated flurry, he spun on his heel, lashing out. He hit hard, knocking Gene sideways with a yelp of surprise. An apology twisted his tongue as he watched him fall, but Noll swallowed it. Nostrils flaring, he growled, "It's you. It'll always be _you_."

Gene, sprawled out on the ground, blinked up at Noll with an expression of complete and utter disbelief. The way it twisted his face made Noll want to kick him. He turned away instead. "God, I hate you."

To his chagrin, Gene's low, amused laugh sounded from behind him. Noll turned in time to watch him ram a hand through his dark hair, still prone on the ground. He chuckled again, "You're such an idiot."

Noll didn't say anything, glaring into the eternal nothingness.

Gene sighed, letting his eyes fall closed. "We both are."

* * *

Part II

"Why are you still here?"

Gene blinked almost as if he'd forgotten himself in the short silence. "What do you mean?"

"You realize," Noll tightened his arms around himself, "It's been two years Gene. I thought you of all people would know how dangerous it is too—"

"I'm fine,"

Noll looked down at him, impish. He could practically feel his brother's internal shift in the chill that seeped into the space between them. Gene's forced smile fell; his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line.

He'd thought Gene was still the same as before but, no. Noll realized now that that wasn't a good sign. He was so much like himself that it was almost impossible. "So it seems."

Gene narrowed his gaze, pushing himself to his elbows. "What?"

"Nothing,"

Slowly, as if expecting to be pushed down again, Gene got to his feet. It was in this movement that Noll saw them; a flicker of black among the blurred haze. The slightest of disturbances just beside Gene. Gene didn't seem to notice this as he turned his darkened eyes on Noll. "Just say it."

Noll clenched his jaw. What _was_ that? "Why are you still here, Gene?"

Noll couldn't pretend Mai's declaration hadn't taken him by surprise. He'd never expected that Gene would be stupid enough to put himself in danger like that; hovering around humans long enough to pass messages to Mai. He'd been putting himself in danger of becoming the very things they exorcise and yet — Noll seethed — he couldn't have gotten a message to _him_?

Gene didn't look away, blue eyes smoldering. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"How—" Noll caught himself. There it was again. Another flicker of _something_ , lingering in the space between them. He took a step back. Was it coming closer? "What is that?"

His words broke, lost without warning in a surge of whispers. It pressed in on all sides, incoherent rambles from voices without bodies. Noll staggered sideways, away from them, pressing his palms against his ears. Shadows filled the emptiness. What wasn't him, was a dark splotch of black, jerking this way and that, blocking Gene from view.

As Noll took another step back, his gaze found a familiar face. Unmistakably, the man from the lake hovered in the space between two Maple tree's. He was heavy-set man and stood before him in only his swimming trunks but there was something more. A dark aura danced around his murky form now, a crazed half smile pulling his lips.

An icy hand gripped his elbow. Noll cried out in surprise, stumbling back against the pull of the hand. Even as he fought against it, the scene was changing before his eyes. A trees fractured and flattened into dull walls that stretched up, up, up. An incredible pain crept down his spine, threatening to break it. He tasted blood; felt it swirling over his tongue as he gasped and sputtered, the ache in his back protesting every breath. Above him, the sky was grey. Someone gave a low, dark chuckle.

" _No!_ "

There was a jerk that almost seemed to break him. One minute he was dying at the bottom of some concrete well, then the forest was back and he was nose to nose with Gene. Gene seized his arms in vice-like grips that bit into his skin. He pulled him closer, face dark with rage. "Don't let them touch you."

Noll tried to pull his arms away, but it was too late; the world began to spin. Once again the trees were gone. The scene shimmered and dissolved, this time giving way to a hot, cramped dashboard laid across Noll's knees. He was sitting, reclined in the passenger's seat of some bright red sports car. It was sweltering hot.

"What—what is this? Where are we?"

Gene materialized beside him, lips pressed into a thin line. He grabbed the head of the gear shift, smoothly guiding the car into third. " _Damn it._ "

"What happened?" Noll asked, eyeing the knobs of the dash. Tentatively, he leaned forward, pushing the dial of the A/C as far as it would go, but the vent only coughed feebly sand sputtered lukewarm air at him. He shut it off.

Noll glared out the windows, wincing at the sunlight reflected off the metal barricades lining the road, separating them from what must have been a very steep cliff. Evidently, they were driving down a mountain. As if on cue, Gene made a hasty downshift, taking the turn faster than Noll's churning stomach would have liked.

When they pulled jerkily out of the turn, Noll frowned at his brother. "Was that necessary?"

Gene gripped the steering wheel harder, knuckles turning white. Noll braced himself against the dash, suddenly very aware neither of them were wearing seatbelts.

"What are we doing? Why are we here?" he asked, trying to read a brightly colored road sign that might tell him where they were, but they were going too fast — the sign passed in a blur of green and white.

Gene fanned the collar of his shirt with one, pale hand, "I didn't mean to do this."

Noll glanced at him, "What do you mean — _Gene!_ "

He bent forward, bracing on the dashboard as Gene took another bend at high speed.

"I didn't want you to see this again," Gene murmured over the high-pitched whine of the engine. They straightened out again. Noll glanced down at the speedometer. 80 kph.

"Again—?"

The car dissolved from beneath him but the mountains and the cliff face remained. He was walking now, meandering slowly down the long twisting mountain drive. He lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the hot sun beating down on him. He could see a small, rural town in the distance separated from the road by acres of trees and – the lake. It must have been only a few miles away. _So then_ , Noll thought, _this is what he meant._ Hadn't Noll already experienced this back home in London when he'd decided to take Gene's blue shirt?

Noll walked on, sliding his free hand alone the metal barrier, taking in the view. It was no wonder why Gene decided to walk despite the heat. Slightly ahead of him, he could see where the road had begun to deteriorate. A sizable gap just before a sharp turn into the mountain side had been eaten away by the cliff some time ago. Anyone driving down the mountain would be forced to swerve into the other lane or risk ripping off their front bumper.

Carefully, Noll stepped around the gap, wiping away the sweat beading over his forehead. He found that despite knowing that pain and death were literally just around the corner he wasn't really afraid. Whether that was because Gene hadn't been anticipating the worst or the fact that he was already dead, he didn't know.

Halfway through the bend, just as the sun was blocked by the towering mountainside, he heard it; the squealing of tires, the grinding of gears from someone who was ill-versed in the finesse of manual drive. Curiosity turned Noll toward the sound even as trepidation and expectation kept him walking. He turned his head just in time to watch the candy red corvette skid around the bend, only just missing the pot-hole.

There was no time to react. The front bumper caught him mid-stride, tearing the ligaments of his knee, momentum forcing the rest of his body up, over the hood of the car. It barely gave under his weight. His shoulder hit the windshield first, followed by the side of his head as he tumbled.

The breath was forced from his lungs giving way to unimaginable pain. He was vaguely aware of someone screaming as he rolled down the back window and off, hitting the ground with a _thump_.

His body rolled beyond his control, scraping his bare skin raw over the blazing gravel.

He coughed feeling something warm and sticky fill his mouth and dribble down, onto the road. He couldn't feel his legs – well, he couldn't feel most of his body because of the immeasurable amount of pain, but his legs were worse than that. He couldn't feel them at all.

The smell of burning rubber and oil overwhelmed him. He closed his eyes against the need to vomit. It would probably kill him.

But he was going to die anyway.

Somewhere far away, he heard the opening of a car door and the sound of muffled sobs. But something was off.

"Oh, my God," the whisper he had been expecting, but the deep tenor that replaced what should have been the high-pitched squeak of the murderer threw him.

He peeled his eyes open just long enough to find the washed-out jeans and high-top converse that replaced the woman's skirt and high heels. Gene had evidently taken it upon himself to take on the role of his own murderer.

Noll felt that if his innards hadn't been actively trying to become his outers, he would have found the whole thing rather ironic. Face down on the pavement, he reached a bloodied, bruised hand out toward Gene.

"…h-hel-lp…" the single word took every ounce of strength he had. He gasped for air.

"Oh, no," Gene whimpered, "No, no, no, no. I-I'm sorry! I'm _so sorry_ …" he stumbled backward, back toward the car.

Noll watched him disappear back into the driver's side. A second later he was blinded by the bright white light of the reverse lights.

Terror had begun to settle in him. This must have been the point where Gene knew he was dead. The car backed up, slowly at first, but then the engine flared and Noll was face to face with the car's undercarriage. The weight of the car crushed his chest. He supposed the other tire must have crushed his legs, but he didn't have time to feel it. Death came a stuttering heartbeat later.

The time between the car rolling off him and being picked up and wrapped in a thin, silver sheet was a blur. It felt as if Gene himself hadn't been quite sure what was happening during the hour or so of which the woman rid herself of her crime. Noll became distantly aware of himself again only when his head hit water.

The freezing liquid invaded his mouth and nose, chilling him from the inside out - but that didn't bother him as much as it should have. His lungs had already stopped taking air; his heart ceased its beating before he had even hit the frozen water, a delightful sensation spreading through his limbs.

The sensation of giving in to death was both new and fascinating. The bullet embedded in his dying body hadn't really hurt at all, but this… _this_ was dying. He still wanted to struggle against the pressing darkness even as his lifeless body sank to the bottom of the lake.

* * *

 _A/N: The car scene was definitely the most fun to write — does that make me weird?_

 _Ongoing thanks to Lily for all the advice and editing skills. This story would have been completely different without all your knowledge. And Toa, who's a better editor than she knows._

 _See you next week,_

 _ELV_


	4. Depression

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 _Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight  
-Dylan Thomas_

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 **CHAPTER 4:** Depression

Part I

The water clung to him. It loosened the thin fabric wrapped around him, swaying back and forth, winding his hair in a halo around his head. The cold nipped at every inch of him. It shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did; he was supposed to be dead, why was he so cold?

As he drifted there in the silence of the in-between, exhaustion settled over him. A sleepiness that made his fingers tingle and his head hum. Was this what Gene felt, or was this him? Was this what it was like to die?

He imagined it would be more painful, more of a feeling of finality. He found that he didn't care anymore. There was a tug somewhere along his navel, almost like an arm snaking around him. It took significant effort to open his eyes, but when he'd finally managed, the first thing he saw was the blotchy green canopy. The feeling of the water soaking him lingered even as he sat up on solid ground, leaves crunching beneath him.

Gene was standing a few paces away. His damp mop of black hair stood out against the black trees. His knees were bent as if he were struggling against some unknown force. The space between them was once again empty; there wasn't even the lingering flicker of the shadows.

"I'm sorry,"

Noll's gaze drifted over Gene whose face was masked by his dripping wet hair. The sleepiness was less now, tolerable, but it still hummed at the back of his mind.

He shook his head, his own wet locks sticking to the sides of his face. "What," his voice was hoarse, "was that?"

"I'm sorry," Gene said again. He buried his face in his hands, fingers bunching in his hair. It looked as if he were waging some internal war against himself. His voice was quieter, meek as he said, "That wasn't supposed to happen."

Noll pushed himself to his feet tentatively, not completely convinced his legs were up to holding his weight once again. They shook beneath him, unsteady, but at least he didn't topple over. "What _happened_?"

"They're spirits. Or, they used to be." He gestured to the trees in a quick, agitated motion, the light catching his hand. The skin there had turned a dark, peculiar grey. Noll's stomach churned; something wasn't right.

"Gene…?" Noll crept cautiously across the space, weary. "Are you alright?"

This close it was easier to see the thin rivets of water that were slipping down, over his cheeks from the point where his hands clenched his hair. Still more water dripped from the ends of his hair too, wetting his loose white t-shirt. It looked as if he'd just dunked his head into a bucket of water. Or was thrown into a lake. His skin was puffy, wrinkled; blackened at the fingertips.

Gene balled his hands into fists, still poised over his mouth so that his voice was muffled. "I'm fine."

Noll stepped forward again, wanting to pull Gene's hands away so that he could see his face. "I don't understand—"

"Don't touch me!"

Noll recoiled. He hadn't realized how close he'd gotten to Gene, his body acting on its own accord. He pulled his hand back from where it had been inches from resting Gene's shoulder. He was shaking.

Gene stumbled backward, kneading his fists through his hair, yanking it. It took everything in Noll not to flinch away. His twin's dark eyes were sunken into his skull, red-rimmed and glassy. His cheeks were gaunt; his lips a pale, silvery blue. He was… _decaying._

"Just leave me alone!" Gene whirled around. Noll had barely formed his name on his lips when Gene reached the line of trees. There was no shimmering effect, no sign at all that he'd crossed some sort of barrier. It was just, one moment he was there, and the next, he wasn't. it was as if he'd blinked from existence.

Noll stood, stunned. For all intents and purposes, he should have been able to see Gene. He could have only been just on the other side of the Maple tree, yet… the haze that had always been hovering just beyond them suddenly looked sinister. He stepped toward the tree, wary. Closer now, he could tell that it wasn't that the forest was blurry, but obscured by a sort of swirling mist.

"Gene?" he called into the silence.

A low gurgling sound was his only answer. He ignored it, pressing his hand against the bark of the tree. It came loose in his hand, crumbling onto his fingers. He brushed it off on his pants. It must have been some sort of portal, he reasoned. A sort of gateway bridging the physical and the spiritual realm.

He heaved a sigh. It could have been dangerous to wander too far from his body, but really, did it matter? Noll spared once last glance at his own dark figure on the ground and stepped past the tree.

* * *

Part II

Not for the first time, the forest was replaced by walls. They seized up around him, bringing with them the cold chill that he'd long associated with air conditioning. Noll shivered slightly, though grateful to escape the heat of the Japanese summer. The room he was in now was dim and small, a roughly made bed shoved into one corner and a crowded looking desk in the other. The closet on the other side of the room had been left open, a mess of clothes left to spill out over the hard wood.

It was this detail that spurred the feeling of nostalgia. It'd been two years since he'd been in this room. It slowly donned on him that it was he who left the closet door open. In his haste to make the last-minute flight across the ocean, he'd forgone the trivialities. A glance over at the desk showed a slightly crumpled Cambridge course book. He wouldn't be needing that now. What a waste.

Where was Gene? Why were they here, back in England?

Noll glanced around the open door. "Gene?"

Having not expected any response, he was put off when the door across from his own creaked open.

Taking care to avoid the floorboard that always creaked, Noll padded over to the door. This room had gone untouched, not because they wanted to preserve Gene's clutter, but because it was too raw. Too real. For Martin and Luella, this was the place where Gene's memory lived. To Noll, it was the place were Gene had died. At the time, that mountain road had been too far away to hold the blame. Now though, he knew better.

Still, Gene standing amongst the clothes strewn over the floor was quite a strange sight to behold as Noll pushed the door open wider. He was poised halfway between the heap of blankets that made up his bed and an overstuffed bookcase.

"I miss my room." he said, sullenly.

Noll didn't say anything as his eyes found the crumpled blue dress shirt lying at his brother's bare feet. What could he say?

Gene shifted. "It took me a long time to find this place again," he said, running his hands along the spines of the books. Watching him, Noll was relieved to see his skin had returned to its normal pallid color. His hair still held that damp quality, but at least it was no longer dripping.

"Why are you here?" Noll asked. He corrected, "Why are _we_ here?"

Gene's hand fell. He sighed, "I was about to ask you that."

"Me?"

"Didn't I just say I haven't been able to find this place?"

Noll stared. Then it hit him. The room was exactly the way _he_ remembered it; not the way Gene had left it. This wasn't a Gene's creation.

"But," he blurted suddenly. If this were an accurate rendition of his last day in London, where wereー

"I can't believe you're letting him go." The familiar lilting voice sounded from the floor below. It resonated through the hall with hushed hostility. The brother's shared a look.

Gene peeked an eyebrow, "Luella?" he intoned as another, lower and sorrowful voice trailed up to them.

"There's nothing we can do, Lu." Martin said, "It's his decision."

"What if something happens?"

Noll crept into the hallway, Gene following close behind him. He could just see the top of the stairs from where they were standing. Were they talking about him? Well, their arguing wasn't really a new development, but whatever they were bickering over always fell flat whenever Noll entered the room.

"Nothing is going to happen."

"You can't know that," Luella snapped, not bothering to rein in her growing anger, "We never expected Gene to—"

Noll pressed his eyes closed, turning his back to the stairs. He'd heard enough; he didn't want to listen anymore. The sound of Gene's name on Luella's somber voice dug at him.

"Do they," Gene started, "do that often?"

The sentence annoyed him more than it should have. How could Gene not realize the detriment his death had done to them? To everyone? "Yes—" he stopped himself, momentarily blinded by green. The forest had sprung up around them once again, thrusting them back into the center of the ring of trees. Noll spun, just enough to see his body still on the ground behind him. Gene followed his gaze, but didn't seem nearly as perturbed by the change as he was.

"What?" Noll frowned, "How did we—"

Gene turned so suddenly that Noll nearly choked on his words in attempt to silence himself. Just around the edge of the space, there was something else. Noll gazed at it, just visible behind Gene's thin frame. It was lighter than the others had been, waspish, yet there was something slightly familiar about it. It hovered between the Maple trees, almost as if it were watching; waiting.

Noll hesitated. The spirit felt restless; empty. "Is that—?"

Gene whispered something unintelligible, eyes fixed on the wisp as it buoyed up and down on invisible waves.

"Sorry?"

"You have to go back." Gene said, louder this time, clenching his jaw. As if feeling their attention, the spirit shivered then darted away, out of sight.

Noll watched it disappear between the trees. "Back?" he asked lightly, "I thought I was dead."

Gene made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, "Don't be so impatient."

Noll spared a glance down at his body. His skin looked paler now, eyes glassy; but his chest was still twitching up and down, stubbornly drawing in air. If he were bothered enough to look closely, he would have noticed that the wound had stopped bleeding. "What if I don't want to go back?"

That same look as before crept onto Gene's face. It darkened his eyes and pulled his lips into a thin frown. "You—" but whatever he'd been about to say was lost in the sound of a high, worried voice.

* * *

Part III

"Naru!" Mai's shout echoed off the trees, breaking the silence. She was right in front of him, back to him as she lifted a hand to her mouth and made a terrible gagging noise. "Oh, _God_."

Noll didn't need to follow her gaze to know she had seen the body of the woman. She whispered a faint prayer before turning her back to it and he realized that she would be the one to discover his body. Horror and disgust filled him as she kneeled into the dirt beside him.

No, not him. His corpse.

" _Mai?_ "

"Over here!"

Lin arrived next, sparing a brief, disgusted glance at the woman before kneeling on Noll's other side. The _onmyouji_ didn't hesitate as Mai had at the sight of the bloody wound, but he didn't mask the expression of utter loss as he felt his wrist for a pulse.

Noll felt like an intruder; like he was witnessing something extremely personal. He leaned back against a tree and dropped his head in his hands. He didn't want to see this.

"Lin-san..." Mai hiccupped, her voice thick with tears Noll knew were streaming down her cheeks. He had always hated it, making Mai cry, but he had never felt so guilty over being the cause of her tears.

There was a rustle in the dirt and the sound of rocks shifting out of the way. Noll couldn't help the surge of curiosity as he lifted his head in time to see the shock register on the _onmyouji_ 's face. Lin stooped down, pressing his ear against Noll's chest, inches away from the gaping wound, completely unconcerned with the blood that smeared across his jaw.

Noll shivered at the sight, an odd feeling swirling in his stomach. He supposed he felt nauseous but he wasn't entirely sure ghosts could get sick. Lin's grey eye widened again, his face growing pale as he quickly sat back and hovered a hand over Noll's mouth; the guise of shock deepened.

" _He's still alive._ "

The words stirred something inside Noll that make him quite sure he was going to be sick. He felt dizzy and disoriented; a feeling he had only ever felt after abusing his PK. It made his ghostly head throb.

Lin leaned forward, "Oliver, if you can hear me hang on! Mai-chan — _Mai!_ "

Mai gasped something unintelligible, still sobbing.

"Go and find the professor. You will have to guide the paramedics back here, I don't think he should be moved. He's already lost a lot of blood — Mai, are you listening?"

She nodded taking a quivering step back. Her puffy eyes were still locked horrified on Noll, "but wha-at if he-he—"

"He's not going to die!" Lin roared. He tore his thin jacket off his shoulders, working it into a haphazard bundle of cloth and pressing it over the wound. He barely spared another glance at Mai, " _Go! Now._ "

Noll turned to watch her leave, tumbling through the brambles without a second thought as they scraped at her skin. He should follow her. It might be the last time he saw his parents before — well, anyway, with Mai's track record he thought she might get lost and he didn't really need her blaming herself for his death. He turned on the spot, decided.

A tight pain stopped him in his tracks. It seared across his chest. Stealing the breath from his lungs; taking with it every shred of resolve he'd had. He crumpled. No, he hadn't crumpled; he couldn't have. He was already on the ground. His shoulder blades pressing against a splintered twig, the pain was unbearable. Every intake of breath wasn't enough, his lungs unable to hold it. He was suffocating.

"Noll!" Lin's voice was thick; garbled. Noll could barely hear it above the rushing in his ears. "Stay with me."

Lin must have readjusted his hold on the jacket as a new fiery burst of pain spiderwebbed over Noll's chest. " _D-dy-i-ing-g_ …" he gasped every syllable.

"No, you're not!" Lin affirmed, louder, "you're going to be alright — _Damnit!_ "

Black mist swirled at the edges of his vision, delving Lin's face into darkness.

" _N—ll,_ " the voice went on, falling flat, beyond recognition. The pain had fallen to an icy numbness. He could still hear his own heartbeat pulsing feebly, clouding out the rest of the world with its sound. His breath came in ragged gasps, accompanied by the searing of his chest. He didn't want to breath anymore. He didn't want to _—_

He fell to his knees sputtering, choking for breath. The leaves protested under his weight, slipping and sliding out of the way. Where was he? What happened _—_? He was a spirit again. With the realization, the pain eased to just above bearable. He could breathe again.

"No," Lin's deep timbre carried over to him, "you can't die."

Noll spared a glance over his slumped shoulder. Lin was hunched over his inert form, one hand pressed deftly against the jacket, staunching the bleeding; the other was poised uncertainly over Noll's forehead. It was a long moment in which his body wheezed again before he realized what he was doing. The muscles in Lin's jaw worked furiously, the internal war playing out across his face. Then, in the next moment the decision was made and Lin's large hand pressed Noll's eyes closed.

The stoic man's eyes looked unusually watery as he whispered, "Don't give up."

As if brought into being by his words, a wispy sort of light cast a golden glow over the small patch of trees. Noll glanced up at it, rocking back on his heels. It was bright, but not bright enough to hurt, nor to give off any heat. It shimmered under his gaze. Noll pushed himself to his feet. It felt almost as if he were being summoned; drawn in by its brilliance.

But the soft golden glow was muted by the figure standing in front of it. Gene was standing there, framed by tall trees, his back to him.

"Gene — _arrgh!_ " Another wave searing pain stole through him. He reached for Gene, feeling his legs buckle beneath him once again. The ghosts of hands were flitting over his skin, pulling him back. " _Gene!_ "

"I hope we don't see each other," he said, his voice light, if slightly careworn. The words didn't fit the darkness that seem to swell from within the golden light, stretching like shadows towards them. Gene turned, already half swallowed by the dark. Seeing Noll, he smiled. "At least, not for a while."

"Gene!" Noll struggled against the force holding him, reached frantically for his brother's glowing figure as he too was swallowed by the darkness. It took over the space between them in an instant, pressing down on him. Smothering him.

"Open wound to the chest cavity," a voice droned from above him. He groaned. "Possible hemorrhaging, damage to the right lung. Blood pressure low and falling."

"Lacerations to the arms and face," Someone gripped the fabric of his shirt, tugging. Next second, a pair of cold and steady hands were pressing against his too hot skin. "Mild burns around the chest wound."

"Pulse is low, respiratory system failing."

"Start a saline drip."

The lights of the ambulance shone through his eyelids in a nauseating whirl of color. Still, he forced his eyes open. The night sky greeted him, half blocked by a very metallic ceiling. Was this _real?_ The edges were blurry, everything bathed in flickering color. A face blotched out the rest of the sky, ruddy brown eyes searching his face with something like concern.

"Can you hear me?" At first the rapid string of Japanese made no sense to him, but slowly, the meaning came to him, "Can you tell me your name?"

" _Ol...er…_ " he forced out between wheezing breaths. The world blurred. Noll let out a groan that was punctuated by a dark metallic taste on his tongue. Someone pressed a dome to his lips that puffed air at him. He fought the urge to push it away.

"Oliver-san," a voice whispered somewhere overhead, "try to breath as deep as you can. Do you know what happened?"

Noll couldn't find his voice this time. His eyelids were getting heavier and heavier the longer he kept them open. The paramedics were still prattling above him, worrying at his chest and face. He let his eyes flutter close, unable to hold their weight any longer. A mild breeze swept over him.

It was done. A feeling of relief washed over him, warm and complete. It was over. The noise of the world trailed away first, followed by the lights that still burned through his eyelids. Though, as he settled into this comfortable nothingness, he thought he heard someone call his name.

* * *

 _A/N:_ _For the first time since I began writing, I found myself having to take a breath. I tend to address death and loss a lot in my works, but it's never gotten to me as much as this story has. I hope I was able to convey that same kind of feeling to you guys, at least to some degree. One more chapter to go._

 _Many, many, many thanks to Lily for simultaneously encouraging me to write and reminding me that it's okay to take a break.  
_

 _I'll see you on the other side,  
ELV_


	5. Acceptance

_A/N: Here we are, my friends. This is the end. Thank you to everyone who stuck with me these last five weeks, and to those of you who joined along the way. It's been real. It's been fun._

 _Of course, endless thanks to Lily for believing in me and this story._

 _See you in another fic,_

 _ELV_

* * *

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 _Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,_

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 **CHAPTER 5:** Acceptance

Part I

It was the sting from the thin, medicinal scented sheets that coaxed him, demanding, into being. With his eyes still closed, the light burned red beneath his eyelids. It didn't hurt, but it wasn't painless either. It was just there, incessant and emphatic. Annoying. Somewhere beside him buzzed the steady electronic pulses of a machine too far away to quiet with a fist. But among those were voices. Where the light was constant, the voices came and went. Sometimes they were loud ーarduous and rowdy. Other times they were less then whispers. He never caught specific words or phrases, just the staccato phonemes of someone unfamiliar with language, and the fluid ones of those who were.

They called to him sometimes. Even as blissful unawareness cooed enticingly at the edge of his mind. They spoke in rhythmic tones, murmuring at him in dissent. Then they would disappear again and he would be left in silence.

He should be awake, he knew. They were growing impatient with him, but his eyes felt like lead. Why was he here? He thought ー because he realized now that he could think ー that he had been in the somewhere with tall, browning trees. He'd been... he'd been... had he been there? It was all growing very fuzzy. That insistent electronic beeping was beginning to give him a migraine, every blip crashing into his skull. But it wasn't long until the whispers fell away again, and he fell back into darkness.

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.

When he finally woke it was to the feel of warm hands on his face. They trailed across his cheeks and over his forehead in a familiar pattern.

The dim light pierced through the dark with more intensity than one would have thought. He blinked against the prickle of tears, a curl of blonde hair swimming into view. "Luーa..." Noll's voice scratched against his dry throat.

The owner of the blond curl, flinched back, jarring the bed just enough to send a ripple of fire through his abdomen. He hissed.

"Noll? Oh, Noll! Martinー" she shouted to the rest of the room. Noll turned away from her loudness, clenching his jaw. She half stood from her chair, the hand that wasn't folded over her chest seizing his hand. "ーHe's awake!"

With a twinge, he noticed how warm the fingers of his hands were; how cramped they felt. He flexed them beneath her stronghold. She must have been holding them while... "Luelーa," he tried again, wetting his lips. "W-hereー"

He was interrupted by the creak of the door as a brighter light invaded his eyes. He forced his watery eyes to focus on the figure rushing toward him. A man with dark hair and glasses.

Martin took up the space on the other side of Noll, grinning wearily down at him. "Noll," he said panting. "Are you okay?"

"Do you hurt anywhere?" Luella was asking him.

It was then that Noll noticed the two cups of tea Martin was holding. He proffered one to Noll, who took it with a shaky hand and sipped at the dark liquid. With his eyes closed, he breathed in the faux woody scent of the hospital black tea. It was obviously off brand and tasted nowhere near what it should have. Still, he drank it readily. It was only when he'd thoroughly coated his dry throat with the lukewarm beverage that he opened his eyes again.

Both of his parents were looking down on him with mixed expressions of worry and apprehension. Martin was still holding the second cup of tea as if he'd forgotten it was there. Luella squeezed his hand when she caught his eye, smiling at him. "How do you feel?" she asked.

"I feel..." Noll cleared his throat. He was cold; the air from wherever he was penetrating through the blanket spread over him with ease. Goosebumps had spread over his bare arms and, from what he could feel, all the way down to his toes. As if brought on by the thought, he shivered. The subtle movement sent a wave of searing pain through his lungs and stomach. For the briefest of moments, he thought he was going to be sick. Groaning, he said, "I feel like I'm on fire."

Luella grimaced, saying, "I'll call a nurse. It's been some time since you've gotten pain medication." Then she flitted to the door, calling out into the hallway.

Noll watched her for a long moment before Martin's soft chuckle brought his attention back. He was searching the buttons along one of the machines, decidedly pressing one that was small and red. "I've got it, Luella. Don't shout."

Disbelieving a simple button push would warrant immediate results, she was reluctant to leave the doorway. However, a simple, pained look from Noll was all it took to lure her away. She was back beside him in an instant, hand sliding back into his. "Don't worry dear, as soon as you're well enough we're going back home."

"What…?"

"Do you really think that's wise?" Martin intoned, "We should wait until his wound has healed at least."

Luella's blonde eyebrows furrowed, "And what? What about Eugene? You really want to leave his body in the coroner's office? He should be _home_ Martin."

"You're right," he conceded, "and he will be home. But it's been two years, darling. I think it can wait a few more weeks."

Whether fortunately or not, the door creaked open once again and the conversation came to a quiet truce. A nurse, clad in dark blue scrubs came stepped into the dim light, saying lightly in Japanese, "Oh, you're awake."

"Yes," he said, managing a nod in her direction. He was beginning to feel a bit breathless. "My chest is bothering me; would you mind…?"

With a small squeak of understanding, she busied herself with the equipment. Noll thought he saw her add something to the saline drip attached to his right hand, then she leaned over to help him into press an oxygen mask to his lips. After a few breaths, he his head felt clearer.

While she was in the room, neither of his parents spoke. Luella was attempting to hide her dismay by glaring at the small fray in the thin hospital blanket. Martin was watching the nurse work with a faraway look in his dark eyes.

When finally she left the small room with a click of the door, Martin breathed a sigh. He patted his son's shoulder, smiling. "It's late. We will continue this conversation in the morning. Get some rest, Noll."

Noll couldn't bring himself to meet his father's eyes. He followed his mother's gaze, imaging the light grey fabric slowly unraveling where it split beside his toes. It took him several long seconds before he found his voice. It was meek and soft, but mercifully steady as he said, "I want to stay in Japan."

Martin was the first to speak. The hand still on his shoulder tightening just slightly, "Noll—"

"Absolutely not."

"Luella, please. Let him explain first."

"I don't _care_ what he has to say," she seethed, "This country has already taken one of my sons and it was damn near taking another. I will not allow my family to go through that _again_."

"Luella, listen to yourself. You can't make that decision for him."

"Don't you tell me what I can't do Martin!" "We are going back to London as a family. End of discussion."

"Luella—"

"I'll go."

"What? Noll, you don't have too—"

"I'll go," he said again, "I should be there for Gene's funeral. But after that I will return to Japan."

"No, you will not—"

"I will." he said, sternly. "If it's in a week, a month, a year; I will return to Japan, Luella. You cannot stop me or keep me in Britain without end."

Tears were rolling freeform down his adoptive mother's face. She pressed a hand to her lips, knitting her brows together in such a way that made her look both cross and strangely somber. Her blue eyes were threatening to burn a hole through him. Slowly, she nodded, her voice quivering as she said, "You're r-right… Oh, Oliver… I-I'm s-so sorry…"

He tightened his hand around hers, hoping it would be enough to console her. He couldn't be too sure his voice wouldn't betray the guilt surging through him at the sight of her tears.

* * *

Part II

Two weeks confined to a hospital bed was enough to make anyone crazy. When you add a group of boisterous spiritualists, a set of anxious parents, and regular oxygen treatments to help his body make up for the hole in his lung — there was no wondering why Noll's face had twisted into a permanent scowl. He was due to be moved downstairs into the recovery ward later that day, and he was afraid that would only encourage the continued unwanted visits.

He leaned carefully back against the bedframe. He would have given anything for a fresh cup of tea, but he didn't dare call the nurse. Already sick of every type of medical professional that existed, Noll didn't care to break the silence of the room. He relished in it. The only downside of the quiet was that without any visitors, the hospital proved incredibly boring. He thought he could sleep but that wouldn't work. His mind was wide awake.

He eyed the novel Martin had left the last time they'd visited. It was left atop the stand beside the bed, perhaps a bit too conveniently. Still, Noll reached for it. He'd never been a fan of fiction, but the title was at least proving promising.

"You look well,"

Noll froze, hand poised over the corner of the page. The cardiograph beeped warningly. He sucked down a breath, flicking his gaze to the man standing stout in the doorway. His pressed blue suit jacket gave him a rather severe look that was quickly diminished by the state of his rumpled black tie.

Hoping the surprise didn't show on his face, Noll straightened. "Who are you?"

The man squared his broad shoulders, fishing a shiny badge from his suit pocket. "Detective Hirota Seigi," he said, stepping closer so that Noll could just make out the JPD insignia on the badge. He made a show of scrutinizing the insignia, as if it meant something to him.

When he didn't say anything, Hirota-san smirked. "Oliver Davis, right?"

Though his identity was no longer a secret, his heart still leapt in panic at the sound of his name. The cardiograph gave another warning beep, mapping out his spiking heartbeat. He took a breath.

Hirota-san eyed the machine dubiously. "Or do you prefer _Shibuya?_ "

Noll rankled, "Do you prefer Hirota-san? Or _detective_?"

"Hirota," he answered, unperturbed. He stopped just beside the foot of the bed, close enough to be intimidating but too far to reach. "I would like to ask you some questions, if don't mind."

"I _do_ mind." he said. Fury raced through him. Why were these people so slow on the uptake? If they hadn't been so incompetent, he wouldn't have been in this situation in the first place. The heart monitor beeped again, chastising him. "Shouldn't the crime scene be enough for you people—?"

Hirota-san raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "As far as I'm concerned, the crime scene was disturbed by several individuals before investigators were able to isolate it. Whatever evidence was there is no longer applicable."

"As far as I'm concerned, Hirota-san, it is no longer any business of the police. What's done is done." Noll was finding it very hard indeed to keep his voice level. Having harbored a grudge against the Japanese police since leaving London, it was proving difficult to quell the mounting resentment. "The Japanese police already proved themselves plenty incompetent when they refused to take my statement seriously two years ago. It isn't my concern if they are too dim witted to—"

"Did you kill Eugene Davis?"

The detective's expression was grim as he said it, but Noll heard the accusation.

"No," he said, seething. He crossed his arms over his chest, immediately regretting this action. The skin of his chest pulled painfully at his stitches. He hissed, "The person responsible for that can no longer be held accountable."

Hirota-san nodded, eyes rolling upward to the ceiling, "Yes, curious, isn't it? How everyone around you seems to end up dead? Quite convenient, I'd say."

Noll didn't say anything. He pressed his lips into a thin line, seething. After a tense moment, the detective dived his hand into his pants pocket and withdrew it again, offering a small, thin card.

"This is my business card. Keep it. I dare say I would like to speak to you in depth about this when you are, uh," he adjusted his suit jacket, sliding the rest back into his pant pocket, "healthy."

Noll took the card. It was made of flimsy, stock paper that darkened where his fingers touched it, baring only two lines; a name written in kanji he couldn't read but assumed read Hirota-san and a string of numbers. The swell of emotions was so sudden, so strong beneath his unsuspecting fingers that it was a wonder he didn't collapse from the force of it. Emotions filled his mind; anger, longing, confusion, weariness, disappointment.

With them flash a single image; Hirota-san, sitting behind a desk, hands bunched in his hair; the embodiment of two years of frustration. And a voice that spoke low over it, " _the case is closed! Move on, Seigi, or retire."_

It took all his practice and resolution to pull away from the image. He sighed, glaring down at the small card. "Why?"

Hirota-san, who'd taken Noll's silence to mean the conversation was over, stopped beside the door, turning. "Why what?"

Noll met the man's hard gaze. "Why are you here _now_? What took you so long?"

"We had to know what kind of person we were dealing with." he said, "You were a wild card, Davis-san. But this time the department couldn't ignore you. Not with a dead person to your name."

"I didn't—" Noll felt his face twist again into a deep scowl. How _dare_ they? "She _killed_ Gene."

"Yes, as you keep saying." Hirota-san squared his shoulders, looking much older and more haggard than he had previously. "And you claim to know this by some sort of magic? Can you really blame the police for not—"

"It's not magic. It's science. The same science that tells me you aren't here on behalf of the detective borough." Noll said, flipping the small square of stock paper between his fingers so that Hirota-san's name flashed under the florescent light. "You shouldn't carry your business cards on you like that. They'll get bent. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"What?" Hirota-san asked, perplexed, "Where do you think you're going?"

Noll had already removed the patch just below his collarbone and silenced the heart monitor before it could screech his traitorous intents to the whole floor. He couldn't be sure he'd done it exactly right, but at least it the nurses hadn't come running yet.

"I am in the mood for some tea, and seeing as how my assistant is not here at the moment..." he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stumbled, a bit awkwardly, to the doorframe beside which the detective was loitering. Hirota-san moved automatically out of the way, allowing Noll to slip past him. He turned just outside the door, handing back his business card. "Goodbye, detective. I dare say you won't be here when I get back."

* * *

Part III

There was something to be said about wandering a hospital clad only in thin, standard issued blue robes.

It'd proved harder than he'd liked to find a sign that told him the hospital's cafeteria was on the second floor and that he — in the postoperative/recovery ward — was on the fifth. He was even more hard pressed to find an elevator that wasn't for service workers only. In the end, after ten long minutes of trying to look like he wasn't doing anything wrong and buffeting all the nurses that asked if he were okay, he opted to take the stairs. It wouldn't be long before one of the nurses realized he should have still been in bed, resting, and his weak, neglected legs could use the exercise. The heavy metal door squealed behind him and he meandered slowly down the first flight stairs. By the time he reached the landing, he was exhausted. Not using your legs for weeks on end apparently made them much less inclined to work properly.

Maybe he would look for the elevator again. Yes, that was probably best.

This floor was much busier than the floor above, filled with bustling nurses in dark grey uniforms supporting clipboards and frazzled expressions. He entertained the idea of asking someone where the elevator was, then promptly pushed it aside. He could find it on his own.

He walked the length of one particularly busy corridor, trying not to glance into the rooms like a curious peeping tom and look like he belonged here. The last thing he wanted was to be sent back upstairs.

But, in a moment of weakness and curiosity, he glanced into one of the lit rooms.

At first all he saw were machines and wires and a young boy sitting, head bowed, beside a heap of blankets. The sight should have meant nothing to him, but it made him stop in his tracks. He didn't know how, but he knew. Maybe it was the resemblance in the boy's face; maybe it was just a thing between attempted murderer and would-be victim.

Or maybe he had spent enough time staring down at her mangled body to recognize it now, lying on the hospital bed.

"Are you family?" One of the nurses asked.

Noll started. He hadn't seen her coming. There were so many doctors and nurses chauffeuring patients this way and that that it had been hard to notice someone standing beside him. She didn't look upset that he was here. She didn't even look as if she realized he were clad in patients clothing.

The urge to for tea surged again.

He shook his head. "No... no, I'm..." he thought saying 'the person she almost killed' would have been a bit pretentious. He managed a small, bemused scowl. "It's complicated."

"Well," she went on, overly helpful, "if you are here to say goodbye this is the time. The family has made the decision to take her off life support."

He blinked. "Oh?"

She nodded, "Yes, well, there is no real chance of recovery, right? Not after… well, my condolences."

He didn't know what to do but watch her walk back to the nurses station a few paces away. They were… taking her off life support? It wasn't so much a surprise as it was sickening. They'd tried to keep her alive this whole time? The door handle was cold against his palm as he pressed the door open. He didn't know what made him do it.

The room was very like his own, except for the extra sets of wires and screens that must have been part of the life support system. The young boy sitting beside the bed jumped at the sound of the door. He couldn't have been much older than Noll, his dark eyes larger than normal and red-rimmed.

"Who are you?" his eyes roamed over Noll's hospital robes and pale face, weary. He crossed his arms high across his chest, "Wait, you're not… are you?"

"Yes," Noll said, sparing him the necessity of finishing, "I am."

The boy stood straighter, suddenly defensive. He sneered, "Why are you here? Can't you see she's—she's…"

"I asked myself that same question," Noll gave what he hoped was a calming smile, but it felt like a lie on his lips. "Unfortunately, I don't have an answer."

He strode across the room with careful steps, the hospital slippers a half size too big. Standing beside her, it was easier to see the locks of limp brown hair concealed beneath a thick gauze and wrap. The bandages concealed much of her face too; and what that didn't cover disappeared behind wires and a sort of breathing apparatus. From what he could see, her skin was pale, almost leathery. Dark bruises had formed around her eyes.

She barely looked like a person anymore.

He swallowed, "What is her name?"

"S-Shuhei Chi,"

Chi, Noll repeated to himself. The name did not bring him the feeling of relief he had convinced himself it would. There was something though, something that reminded him vaguely of sorrow.

He spared a glance up at the boy who must have been her brother. They had the same color eyes. "And your name?"

He hesitated the space of a heartbeat, sniffling, "Shuh-hei Yatsuki."

Noll nodded, solemn. "My condolences, Shuhei-san."

He didn't know what made him do it. He reached for her hand. Her skin was warm beneath his fingers; warm, yet somehow vacant. No swirl of feeling thrummed as it did with others, no memories threatened to test his mental fortitude. Perhaps there wasn't anything left to read; perhaps she had already moved on, her body kept alive by these machines.

He frowned. Could that be why they hadn't meant crossed paths in the realm of spirits?

"What are you doing?"

Noll looked up. Yatsuki was glaring at him, hands pulled into shaking fists. Noll watched him carefully. "The nurse told me you were… saying goodbye."

Yatsuki's dark eyes flickered over his sister's face, lips trembling. Sniffling, he nodded, "yeah, so?"

"Would you allow me to… to join you?" He knew it sounded weird the moment the words left his lips, but he couldn't take them back. He hadn't exactly been planning to say anything, he'd only wanted to see her. He didn't even know what had possessed him to come in here in the first place.

He relinquished his hold over her, gently replacing her hand back beside her. Surely, Yatsuki would ask him to leave—

"Yeah," he said as Noll made to turn away. "I don't understand what happened or... or why but… she—she—" he swallowed, trailing off.

Noll stood rooted to the spot. The incessant chorus of beeps from the sum of the machines seemed to grow louder in the silence. What would he say? What _could_ he say to the person who'd nearly ended his own life? Who'd already stolen Gene's and was about to take her own. He took up her hand once again, willing the words to come to him.

Could she even hear him?... did it matter? He searched her face. What would he say to Shuhei Chi; the person who single handedly tore his family apart? Who brought him here, to Japan? Who inadvertently lead him to meet _them?_

He gave her hand one last squeeze, allowing the words to be list in the chiming of the machines. " _Thank you,"_

Then he released her and turned on his heel, saying over his shoulder. "Take care, Shuhei-san."

"Wait,"

Noll had already made it to the door when Yatsuki called out to him, "Can… Can I know _your_ name?"

He paused, the weight of the door handle in his hand. The panic that had risen in him at the sound of the question was quickly quelled by this new feeling of peace. With the flourish, he glanced over his shoulder. "Oliver Davis. My name is Oliver Davis."

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 _Do not go gentle into that good night.  
_ _-Dylan Thomas_

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The end.


End file.
